


Flowers in the dark are enough

by hawkeyescoffee



Series: Jonsa Week 2019 by Aleks [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BAMF Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), BAMF Sansa Stark, F/M, Ghost is a Good Boy (ASoIaF), Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Jon is just done with the Olympians, Past Jon Snow/Ygritte, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Sansa wants autonomy and a nap, Strangers to Lovers, a sequel might be coming some day bc I liked the idea but already had a WIP from this project lol, or at least the setup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeyescoffee/pseuds/hawkeyescoffee
Summary: Rolling his eyes Jon scoffed: “Well, I don’t care who you are- Get the fuck out of here!” Biting her lip in an unsuccessful attempted to tame her anger (and shame) Sansa stalked closer to the God, who was surprisingly smaller than her: “My name is Sansa and I am the Goddess of flowers-“Jon groaned. He put a hand thru his black hair, almost tugging on it in annoyance. “You are Catelyn’s child?”, he asked. “Yes.”, Sansa watched him become even gloomier. It was almost hilarious to see this grown man mop around under the stone sky of Hades.Jonsa Week Day 4: Songs - (Mythes) - Lies]
Relationships: Jon Snow & Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark & Margaery Tyrell
Series: Jonsa Week 2019 by Aleks [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546636
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Flowers in the dark are enough

Sana was the young beautiful daughter of the goddess of the seasons, harvest and growth. Her mother Catelyn was very protective over her, didn’t let her go anywhere unaccompanied. Mostly her friend Margery, the goddess of beauty kept her company, but Sansa was not allowed to even think of being alone somewhere.

Catelyn was afraid for her daughter, because there were many gods who wanted to wife her and they would not wait for the blessing of Robert, king of Gods, but would try to steal her away. So, Sansa lived with a mother that loved her more than her own immortal live, thought her many useful things and gave her affection. But Catelyn was paranoid, not trusting the leering older Olympians, the youngsters with their overflowing confidence.

So, Sansa was not allowed to do anything except going to pick flowers with Margery when she had time to spare and sit in her mother’s palace, looking pretty and sowing and stitching the flowers for the world but that was it. She was a goddess with the power to do almost anything she could imagine, but this was her whole world.

And she dreaded it. She tried not to blame her mother, who lived longer and had seen the other gods do horrible things, worse than her wildest imagination, but Sansa’s live was a gilded cage. Safe but suffocating.

And then one day after a little eternity of her uneventful life, Cersei the Queen of Gods came to visit her. With a sweet smile and cruel eyes, she asked her if she would like to marry her beloved son, Joffrey, God of War. Sansa averted her gaze feigning shyness and telling the queen that she can’t make a decision like this without asking for her mother’s advice. Cersei just smiled a venomous smile and praised her, what a dutiful daughter she was to wait for her mother’s approval, wouldn’t she like to have her as daughter too.

The truth was Sansa would have swooned over Joffrey a few years back when she was a newborn goddess and knew nothing of the world. He made war sound so gallant and hero-forging. He was handsome with golden hair like a crown. If she was still that girl, she would have said yes to her queen’s proposal without a second thought. But that was not her anymore. She had grown more cautious than that.

She had made a secret friend with the goddess of rainbows a while back, who let her use the rainbow magic to watch the world and entertain herself.

And the world she saw.

She saw the pain and suffering war left in the mortal world, saw man kill and rape and slaughter, other man, women, children, for many of them it did not matter, and all of this was Joffrey’s doing. She didn’t want to marry and leave the possessiveness of her mother for the possessiveness of a man. Sansa desired freedom more than anything. She searched for opportunities to leave Olympus behind but there were not many places outside of the gods reach. And the queens visit only let the want grow more desperate.

One afternoon in the flower fields, there was a chance and she took it.

They were sitting in a wide field of brilliantly colored blooms. Margaery was braiding blue flowers into her fire hair as Sansa sung a song. Arya was nearby basking in the sun with a few of her huntresses and a couple of forest spirits, listening lazily. It was a serene scene from an outside perspective, but Sansa was tense.

She was mulling over a way to flee for weeks now, but there was no clear way, no strategy for her to leave without being caught or hurt people.

Then the ground opened near their little party. A deep, pitch black rim that seemed to have no end. And out of it dissented a young man. Sansa didn’t even see him at first, because his hair and his clothes were as black as the background.

Standing, Sansa watched him curiously. She, in fact, had never seen him bevor. Sansa knew every god, spirit, and demigod in Greece, but she had not a single clue who he was. She did not know how to feel about that.

The mysterious man eyed her and Margaery for a long moment, turned and spoke to Arya in a warm and familiar fashion. Margaery took her arm, and whispered: “I have never seen him bevor, like I knew that he is down there but-“ Sansa tried to focus on her friend. She really did, but he- He was intriguing. It was odd.

She watched him immediately being surrounded by the nature spirits. They were laughing at him, tossing their hair over their shoulders and touching the poor men without his consent. (Even though she thought es pretty evident that he was more than uncomfortable.)

The sun hit his face and she saw that his eyes where as black as his hair. It seemed to swallow the light whole and the warmth with it. His skin was as white as snow. “Who is he?”, Sansa’s voice was a murmur in Margaery’s ear. “You don’t know?”, the other goddess watched her with wide unbelieving eyes. “It is Jon Snow, the god of the underworld.”

Sansa’s answer was drowned out in a thunder of hooves, bloodred horses landed on the ground pulling Joffrey’s wagon. The war god faced the group red faced and the spirits made a run for it and so did Jon. Joffrey stomped over soft blossoms, destroying them without a second thought, making his way to her. Sansa for her part, let go of Margaery. Then she looked over to Arya, who moved in formation with her worriers, then to Jon who was half running back to his rim.

She made a reckless decision.

She turned her back to the blonde god, put her skirt in her hands and made a run for Jon Snow, a man she did not know. He heard her steps and turned, almost at his destination, made a very puzzled face as he took a running Sansa and an angry Joffrey behind her in. But there was not much time for him to prosses, as the maiden tackled him back into literal hell.

Sansa got up after the fall, standing in the depths of the Hades. It was surprisingly scenic. They were standing in a wide, almost infinite field of low grass. The Asphodel Meadow, she realized, if the sad looking greyish people that flocked there was anything to go by.

In the distance there was a palace of glittering black stone, massive and intimidating in build.

“What have you done?”, the question was low growl in the well creepy silent of the underworld. Sansa turned to look at Jon Snow, God of the Underworld, who scolded at the godly maiden who, well, used him for her own gain? “Literally, Lady, what is your problem?”

Sansa sighted: “You don’t understand. I needed to get away from Olympus. I-” “Listen: I don’t care what your problem with Joffrey is- If you fucked his brother or-” Blood shot into the girl’s cheeks, leaving her beet red. “I am no one’s lover and I am _not_ a mortal.”

Rolling his eyes Jon scoffed: “Well, I don’t care who you are- Get the _fuck_ out of here!” Biting her lip in an unsuccessful attempted to tame her anger (and shame) Sansa stalked closer to the God, who was surprisingly smaller than her: “My name is Sansa and I am the Goddess of flowers-“

Jon groaned. He put a hand thru his black hair, almost tugging on it in annoyance. “You are Catelyn’s child?”, he asked. “Yes.”, Sansa watched him become even gloomier. It was almost hilarious to see this grown man mop around under the stone sky of Hades. “Is that a problem?”, she asked anyway. “If- Girl-“ “Sansa.”, she corrected annoyed. “ _Sansa_.”, he repeated almost mockingly, “You have to go back to Olympus immediately.” He tried to grab at her but she just hoped out of the way. “What? Why?” He threw her a weird glance, like he could not believe what she was doing. “Why would you want to stay here?” The question was not accusing or anything. He just gestured around the dead grass, mindless souls and lightless celling, as to say that no one would stay here willingly.

Sansa just snapped at Jon: “That is none of your business.”

“Then why should I keep you here? Your mother hates me. If you stay, she will think I stole you, and I will not deal with this kind of bullshit. I haven’t been on this dumb mountain for decades-“ Sansa watched him pace in the ghost grass, frantic, something close to panic in his black eyes. “Why would my mother hate you...?” But he barley registered her whispering. Not sure what to do now, Sansa watched the souls on the Meadow. The seemed pale, grayish, like the shadow of a living person.

Without thinking much she walked over to them. Her bare feet were tickled by the surprisingly soft ground, as she came closer to a woman, or what’s left of her that could not be older than twenty. But except for starring at the goddess with empty, glassy eyes, she didn’t do much, _until she did._

The woman was clutching at her, with the desperation of a dying animal. Sansa tired to back away, get free, but it was no use. There were other now, ripping at her clothes, slashing at her fair skin, trying to… She didn’t know what they wanted, if they wanted anything anymore.

There was pain and there was fear and the mob of people, souls, mindless monsters she was drowning in. She felt her heartbeat quickening erratic, panic spreading thru her veins, cold and treacherous. She had technically eternal live but that didn’t mean that there was no harm to be done here and even tough fear was a very human emotion, she felt it way too often.

“Girl! What-?”

It was Jon’s voice, she realized. But it was so far away, it didn’t anything to ease the tension in her body. It was all too much and then just like that, Sansa snapped.

A jungle of flowers and with thick vines and sinister thorns. They grew out of the souls mouths, trapped them or pierced them thru their lifeless hearts. Sansa wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She pulled herself free, adjust her dress to the best of her abilities and walked over to the God of the Underworld with her head held high.

“You shouldn’t have disturbed them. It-“, he spoke to her but his focus was on the aftermath of her outburst. She would have liked to know what he was thinking but his expression was unreadable. “I’ve noticed.”, she just breathed. Her voice was a lot more venom then she intended but at least it wasn’t shaking. “Listen, girl-“ “ _Sansa!_ ” It was like was not listening to her; he was not even looking at her. “Listen: You have to go home now. If something happens to you- Your mother will kill me _or worse_ …”

The tears returned to her eyes, the tension in her shoulders. “I can’t.”, she trained her eyes on her ripped dress, her torn skin her scratched feed. “I can’t go back up there. Cersei, she will _make me_ -“, her voice broke. There was not much left of her confidence and the desperation of her earlier decision. Now, she was only tired and afraid. “She will make me marry Joffrey and my mother would probably let her…”, the last part was a soft sigh of betrayal.

Jon rubbed his face in aggregation she thought but no, it was just exhaustion too. “Fine.” She blinked and took a shaking breath. “Fine?” “ _Fine._ You can stay a bit but stay away from the dead and-“ Sansa could not help but smile at Jon. Wide and brilliantly so. He took her pretty face in, her bright blue eyes and swallowed hard. “If someone comes down for you, you will have to go back. I’m not risking the feeble peace I have with Robert, because-“, She interrupted him. “Because you pity me.” “That’s not what I wanted to say-“, but he wasn’t sure, what he wanted to say. “It’s quite alright.”, smiling she took another step away from the Asphodel Meadow and closer to what seemed to be Jon’s palace. “I can work with pity, as long as I have time to work something else out.”

With that she turned completely towards the dark stone building. He did tell her to stay away from the dead after all.

Inside the palace it was not less gloomy and dark, but there was torch light that made it look almost cozy. Almost. She walked further. It was all dark wood, black stone, deep violet crystals, but there was no character to any of the rooms she passed. If she didn’t know better, it was like no one was living here.

She passed the throne room. A wide hall with actual big windows with heavy curtains and as she walked the little light, painted shadowy patterns on the wall behind her.

Finally, she got out on the other side: A little garden. Or that what she thought what it was at first. On second glance she noticed that the flowers, where elaborate gems and crystal posing as such. She touched the sad rest of blue petals in her hair as she past a flower made of stunning sapphire. She lost a lot of them on her way here.

It was the first time she comprehended how dead everything down here was. When she made the decision to jump, her only concern was to get away, away from the other gods, into a realm where Robert had no power, but she was a Goddess of flowers, growth, live and Hades was the Realm of the Dead. There was nothing alive about it.

Well, that was not entirely true: There in the center of the garden was a little tree, a pomegranate tree. It was warm with magic. Evidently the only way to keep something alive in the Underworld. Sansa may not have seen this place or Jon before but she heard things. Why he would not visit Olympus anymore, who his parents were and why he didn’t want to marry. One of those things being: That one has to stay in Hades by nature, if one eats there. Not even the power of the Gods can break this magic.

So, she sat herself in front of the tree, eying it’s fruits. How desperate was she? If she ate some of the pomegranates not even Jon could kick her out again, but could she live down here without the option to ever go home again? It was all too much for one day. Her body ached; her heart ached more. She loved her mother, but she hated her live. She craved independence. Something the world up there could not give her with Joffrey or Cersei up there.

Sansa was afraid.

But a decision had to be made or nothing would ever change.

“What are you doing girl?”, Jon was right behind her she could tell, but she just clutched the fruit in her hand. He could well damn see what she was doing. She felt him sitting next her on the ground, but he was not alone. There was a huge hound, with red eyes and snow-white fur. He was almost completely silent in a way that should have scared her more than it did. She extended a hand and the beast sniffed it. Jon was watching the exchange curiously.

“I won’t get rid of you so easily, won’t I?”, his tone was exhausted but- and they hound could get her if she was wrong – she was almost certain there was a smile in his voice. “I am afraid so…”, there was an exhausted smile pulling at her lips. “I don’t do this to inconvenience you, you must believe me. I’m just selfish in my desire to be free. It’s just that I don’t really know what to do from here…” She rolled the red fruit in her hands, watching it move. “I could eat this and become a nuisance for you, but you don’t have to be nice to me and it’s dangerous down here. Is there a reason why you shouldn’t just throw me in Tartarus and be done for?”

He looked like he wanted to say something to correct her. There was hesitation in his black eyes, but she continued nonetheless: “Or I could go up there again. Lie about why I was here and marry Joffrey. Be miserable...” Her blue eyes fluttered in Jon’s direction, trying to come to with a strategy. She could manipulate into helping her, Sansa was sure. He seemed to hate Joffrey too, seemed to pity her or even feel for her situation. He had been rude, granted, but more from exhaustion than real distain.

The question was more: Did she want to guilt trip him into helping?

It would be easy. She could talk about Cersei's jealousy, about Joffrey’s evident cruelty, hint at him maybe raping her, like he raped many mortal women before her. Who would stop him? He was the prince of Gods, Master of Armies and Nightmare of every girl that had the misfortune to be placed in his path.

“Would you be willing to make a deal with me?”, she asked instead. Jon furrowed his brows questioning: “What kind of deal?” Sansa shuffled to face him, while she tried to choose her next words carefully: “What if we lie and say that you stole me away and are now married? What if-” “No.”, the answer was immediate.

He repeated: “ _No._ ” She sighed: “It is a beneficial lie for both of us. Robert-” “ _Robert_ hates me anyway, because my mother- Besides that just places me in danger, when I essentially repeat that mess for his son!” “You wat to hide down here longer, because every time you come to the surface you are being pressed to finally marry someone? I know what happened. Everyone on Olympus knows what happened to Ygre-” “Don't say her name.”, Biting his lip, Jon focused on the tree. “ _I love her_ , and she is dead and gone. You don’t need to now more-” Sansa could just nod. His sadness hung over them like a thick blanket.

“You are right, that I need someone to co-rule the underworld, but I would never marry for Love and these that want me for power cannot be trusted.” “I don’t want your Love, or your Power. I need safety. I will find things to entertain myself with but I swear I will not change things without consulting you and I will aid you only when you ask.”

“I'm sorry, Sansa... I'm just not-”, he rubbed his eyes, almost defeated. “Robert-”

“I will tell them that this is my fault. I will lie and say, that I fell in love with you at first glance and followed you around until you would take me.”, there was a small smirk on her face: “That's not even that big of a lie-” “But is that a good idea?” “No.”, _but what else am I going to do know?_ She opened the fruit with quick fingers and grabbed some of the juicy seed, only for Jon to slap it out of her grasp. He was not completely successful though because six of them found their way down Sansa’s troth.

Jon just looked at her like he could not believe she just done that.

“And after that, you still expect me to lie for you?”, he watched his hound lie beside them, petting his soft fur. Sansa got up and comping thru her copper hair to get rid of the last flower petals, as she spoke again: “Like I told you already: I don’t expect you to do anything. I-“ She was standing at the bother to leave the gem garden, unsure what to do next.

Behind her she heard a groan and she felt a cold nose push her hand. Sansa smiled down at the dog, as she put her fingers thru his fur too. He was a pretty boy, friendly and cuddly despite his size and looks. It was somewhat comforting, having him beside her. “His name is ghost.”, Jon stood now too. Ghost between them. “That is what I call him at least. You might now him as Cerberus.” Being confused Sansa followed him back inside. To be fair: What else was she supposed to do? Then she finally asked: “Isn’t Cerberus supposed to have three heads?”

Bemused Jon turned back to her, the fire dancing in his eyes. “Isn’t your mother suppose to be blonde?” Sansa shrugged: “She is. Sometimes.” He was standing in front of a heavy black door. “Ghost has three heads. Sometimes.”

“Fair enough.” Sansa felt herself smile again. Taking into account what kind of stressful and long day she had, it was surreal how fast she felt comfortable around Jon. It should probably frighten her more, the way he felt familiar and safe. She was trying to pull herself together. It should have been more unsettling.

Jon made an open gesture to the room and she peeked inside. It was a big bedchamber with a wide, plush looking bed, a vanity with a huge looking glass, a dresser and a massive tube. But the space felt cold and impersonal. “I had this prepared for you, when you run in here because something told me that you would stay the night. “Thank you, Jon.” She meant it, even though she was not sure if she could trust him. That nagging feeling in the back of her mind, exhausted her even more.

Jon nodded to the tub: “It will fill up with hot water, if you want to bath. And in the dresser, there are some dresses. I-“ Shuffling he grabbed the door nob again. “I asked a few of the spirits for help. I see you tomorrow.”

“Jon? Will you marry me?”, Sansa pressed again, half joking. As she moved to inspect the clothes, they provided for her. They were all black and grey-ish, dark and not what she usually would wear. In the background she just heart him sigh again. Sansa grinned now, her blue eyes shining. The situation was still ridiculous. All of it. “Is that a no?” watching him fighting a smile of his own.

“We will talk tomorrow.”, he breathed, as he opened the door to let out Ghost first. “Tell me Jon? Are you sure you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, Sansa, I am not.”

“So, are you going to marry me?”

“Maybe.”

“If I grow you a cherry tree for your garden, would it be a yes?”

Jon rolled his eyes, now laughing: “Yes, sure, whatever. Cherry tree, great.”

“Perfect. I see you in the morning.”

Then he left and she was busy cleaning up and getting finally to sleep. Gods could be bone tired too. She laid in bed, warm, scrubbed clean and for a second content. From now on she could do whatever she wanted. If she wanted to marry Jon for real and if he would agree, she could do that. If she wanted to explore the underworld, see Elysium for example, she could do that also. She was free. It was a great feeling, that was only spoiled by the tiny tug of guilt pulling at her heart. How her mother must worry right now. Sansa vanished without a word with a man Catelyn apparently hated. Would her mother ever be able to forgive her? Especially now that she ate food down here.

She thought about Jon for a moment. He seemed to be genuinely nice and wanted to help her. She wished his compassion to be real as she drifted to sleep.


End file.
